Post by Albus Severus Potter on Mar 29, 2019 13:32:25 GMT -7
don't speak too soon.
29th of August 2022MUSIC THRUMMED IN ALBUS'S EARS AS HE ignored the crashing sound of his little sister on her broom in the garden below, James' records scratching, and the general din of a very busy household in the thick of summer. He was hiding, his head bent over a desk that was covered in mysterious stains and char marks. It was where he concocted his most interesting creations, and it showed as a beaker fizzed and a cauldron bubbled dangerously.
The walls were oddly bare for a teenager's bedroom, nothing but a few dozen rectangular discolourations on the blue walls, the ghosts of posters he'd ripped down the summer before. The summer he'd decided to be anything but his father. When the expectations of the name 'Potter' became too incessant and constricting. He'd stopped playing any Quidditch whatsoever, became dangerously quiet whenever somebody asked an obscure question about his father or James, and started selling potions to make a little money on the side. That meant discarding the sports paraphernalia and shunning any mention of 'Chosen Ones'. It made him a very lonesome boy.
A large set of headphones jammed over his ears, he didn't hear the sound of someone jimmying the latch on his bedroom window. His back turned and angry rocky music deafening him. All that mattered was perfecting the scale of smoking fireseeds and billywig stings. So when he felt a hand on his shoulder he yelped audibly, dropping the metal spoon he was holding in to the beaker below, which in turn reacted to the contents inside and sent a shock of flames a half foot in the air which almost took Albus's eyebrows off. He turned expecting Lily, wondering how she'd gotten around his chest of drawers - which he'd wedged under his handle to keep her out.
Instead, when Albus turned around, he leaned back towards the smoking beaker and half screamed, eyes comically wide. Cast in shadow by the light leaking in through his open bedroom window, Cara Bainbridge stood with the stance of a warrior ready for battle.
Albus didn't care for Cara Bainbridge for many reasons - one of the many children of the Bainbridge's who lived across the road. She had always been unnervingly pretty, with a sharks smile. Having spent much of their summer before their first year at Hogwarts gleefully kicking Albus from his practise broom. She was not his friend. Nor she was so pretty any more, standing in his bedroom with her hands on her hips. For her face - which had caused Albus to cry out so suddenly - was raised in dozens of angry red bumps, almost purple in colour. "What..." He very nearly asked what had happened to her pretty, pretty face, but corrected himself instead, pulling his headphones from his ears. "Did you climb through my window?!" He asked instead, aghast.